Fallacies of Fantasy
by Mrs Bella Riddle
Summary: The Dark Lord conquered Britain in 1982 and is moving to expand over Europe, but all is not perfect for Bellatrix who must contend with an unexpected obstacle. She tries to ignore it, though she never can. B/V and V/OC
1. No Claim

Challenge for Thanatos Angelos Girl's NaNoWriMo Challenge on xoxLewrahxox's Bellatrix Lestrange: The Dark Lord's Most Faithful Forum. The challenge was to write 20,000 words in a month. I struggled originally, but once the plot bunny got into my head it was all smooth sailing.

Just some quick notes. This is set in December 1991 in a world where Voldemort killed all of the Potters on Halloween and has been in power for about ten years. He continues to expand further than Britain and this is where the story takes place. Rest assured there is always a reason for Voldemort's actions and this will be revealed over time. As well, please be aware that Bella is not the most reliable narrator so the reader will originally gain a very negative opinion of an OC (to the extent she does not even refer to her by name), but there is more to her than meets the eye.

Enjoy!

* * *

_No, Bella. Do not, Bella. Do not think that way. You have no right to think that way. You know this. You know you have no claim. It is not about you. Only him. It is not what you want. Be happy for him. Just him. You know this is for the best. You know the reasons. It means nothing, even if it did, it is not your business. Stop doubting him, okay. You can do that can you? Of course you can. Yes? Yes? Yes?_

_No,_ Bellatrix concluded as she slammed down her now empty wine glass with enough force and noise to cause the few people at her table to turn and stare. However, they were swiftly frightened away with a well practised knife like stare. She did not care about the opinion of anyone on her table, at least now the Dark Lord had left. Now, all that remained was a bunch of cowardly Frenchmen, brownnosing English bureaucrats and probably, most irksome, of all (at least at the moment) her _darling_ husband.

"Are you alright?" Rodolphus leaned over and whispered. She eyed his hand that was stretching dangerously close to her own. It was the only way she looked at him. "You seem a little-"

"I'm fine," she snapped, cutting him off and probably speaking loud enough for the others to hear, but she did not care. Her eyes finally flicked to his, though the fiery glare she met him was the opposite of the concern shining in his sky blue eyes. "As I have told you a hundred times, so stop damn well asking me."

He did not say anything else. She would not have listened to him, even if he did. Ignoring him, she leaned back on her chair and slid a glass of wine off the tray of a passing waiter. She half expected Rodolphus to comment, but she supposed he must have realised the futility of the action. She did not care if he thought she had enough. She had not had near enough. She did not care that this was a formal diplomatic conference. She would not be happy until she had drunk enough to forget why she was here in the first place.

However, it was not so simple. Her mind never strayed off the topic for long.

Still leaning back in her chair, it was easy to just turn her head a little and eye the subject of her thoughts.

The Dark Lord stood near the grand entrance door, a short distance from the last of the tables. A small group gathered around him, though he seemed to only be paying attention to a few. Bella surmised the rest were just there to bask in his presence like the leeches that they were.

Actually, she thought the same thing about all of them, even those he was talking to. Well into his 60s, with neatly cropped silver hair to show for it, the French monarch, King Ludovic, stood speaking seemingly animatedly to the Dark Lord. A tall man himself, the King was still a head shorter than her Lord and always managed to disgust Bella, perhaps it was due to his gluttonous frame or his decisions. Either way, Bella would have liked nothing more than to order her Lord's army to strip this pathetic nation from his grasp, but no, her Lord did not have that plan in mind.

More repugnant was his simpering wife and to her right and, closest to the Dark Lord, was the one Bella truly wanted to strangle. She was quite proud of herself that she had not even cursed the pathetic brat nor had her Lord even needed to tell her to restrain herself! However, it had not stopped the many, many fantasies that the thought of doing so which had materialised.

At 20, she was more than half Bella's age. Bella had no respect for her. She only saw her as naive, an air head and someone who had no place in this world, especially anywhere near _her_ Lord. Yet, that was not the case. Blessed with locks of silky blonde hair, full red lips and a pretty round face (though she was substantially shorter than Bella and like a stick in her mind, thank Merlin) it was only made worse with her status as Heir Presumptive to the French Throne.

These were all facts Bella could live with. Despite the fact that she had celebrated her 40th birthday this year and her face had started to show some hints of age, the Black looks had never left her. Bella had never doubted that. She knew she was an attractive woman. She was well aware of her place in society so she certainly had no reason to be jealous of a blonde twig of a girl, even if she was a French Princess.

Well, she had thought that way. Now she only had feelings of built up fire (which many would attribute to jealousy, though Bella was not quite ready to admit that yet) when she thought of the girl.

It had been nearly ten years since the Ministry had fallen and her Lord had finally been able to declare himself Minister. Britain had finally been restored to its glory days with mudbloods finally at the bottom of society and in almost servitude. She could accept this, after all, as her Lord put it, they needed someone to clean up the garbage. There were minor disturbances, but, in general, there was peace.

However, as she had always known, there was more to this game than just Britain. The shores of her home land were only one piece of the puzzle. She believed completely in her Master and knew there was always more to it than one nation. No, it was only right that other places were liberated from the position they had been placed in. Great Britain was the way society should be and others should be transformed to be the same, if that was by war or peace she did not mind.

In fact, she had a distinct preference. Once the Ministry had fallen, Bella had been blessed and honoured when she had been granted a high ranking position as one of her Lord's top advisors and assistants. In practice, it meant she performed tasks that were not worth his while and those he did not trust others with. She had liked to see herself as Deputy Minister, though she never voiced that title since her Lord had never officially referred to her as such.

It only lasted for a while. After five years and society had settled down, her Lord had announced a fighting force to aid in greater internal security, provide livelihoods for the unskilled and increase Britain's prestige. Despite the fact it was never originally called such, Wizarding Britain had its first army since the 1950s and she was placed at the helm for her Lord would not trust anyone else with such a position.

However, life as the nation's top general was not as interesting and as entertaining as she would originally have thought. There were no decisive overseas battles, but only mere 'peacetime' operations, whenever there was disturbance in European nations to assist the side that was worthy.

Though, her Lord had said war would be soon and she had believed him whole heartedly. It was assisted by the fact that he normally murmured it into her ear after she had never fully recovered from the high that intercourse with her Lord always brought.

"Soon, my Bella," he would murmur, his cool thin lips trailing from her ear lobe to her throat and his long fingered hands massaging her body at just the places that he knew would make her squirm. "Soon, I shall unleash you as my warrior once again and all shall fear our names. No opposition need be tolerated even if they are on or off Britain's shores."

Breathless and husky, she would reply, her mind only partially concentrating on her words, "Of course, Master, of course! I do not doubt you!"

Even now, she still did not like to question him, even in her mind, though she doubted her Lord's decision. A few years ago, because of their hesitations and apparent sympathy for her Lord's enemies, death and invasion was all that France deserved, but now they were hosting a ball celebrating their alliance since her Lord was-

The slightest slither of a wordlessly hiss escaped her lips as she once again finished her glass and gracelessly dropped it on the crystal on the table. This time her companions were wise enough to not even shoot her a glance. She did not look at him or her husband, even when he tried to grasp her arm. She avoided it and, instead, strode across the hall, picking up another glass of wine as she did so. All the while, she concentrated on staring straight ahead and not anywhere to her right where her Lord still was with the leeches.

Taking a long breath, she inhaled the cool winter air as she stepped onto the balcony. _Blissful solitude, finally._

Making her way to the rail, she leaned over, dangling her glass from her manicured fingers. She was left alone just as she was meant to be. She supposed she had Rodolphus, but when did he count? She never wanted him. There was only one person she wanted, though he was always the one person she could never have.

She was not drunk enough to start sobbing in public, but her gaze was wistful and solemn as she gazed down at the fountain above, t_hinking, wondering, wishing_.

He had been her first. At the tender age of eighteen, she had been swept up into her Lord's ranks, marked as his own and given the immense honour of being personally taught by the Dark Lord himself. He had taught her _everything _so, by the time she married Rodolphus, she was not as virtuous as she should have been, but she had never cared. No, she had _loved _him for it.

For more than twenty years, she had carried on the affair with her Lord through her marriage, the war and their victory, despite the fact she knew he had other woman he could turn to. She suspected he did from time to time and, it did irk her occasionally, but she knew she was his favourite and that was enough for her to forget every other whore who might enter his bed.

Yet, this was different. This little brat was taking the position she could only have dreamed about in her most ridiculous and farfetched imagination. Though, she had never seriously considered it. No, she knew her Lord would never want a _wife. _

Until now.

Polishing off glass number...she could not even remember, she allowed it to slid from her hands and fall until it crashed and shattered on the path below her. She wondered what would have happen if it would have hit someone, if it had hit _her._

The French had never wanted to trust in an alliance with Britain. They had believed her Lord could not be trusted: That he was a mere murderer. French beliefs on blood purity might have been similar, though they did not want to go to the measures Britain had.

Yet, the threat of war was rising and, instead of standing by the words they had sworn by, they showed themselves as the weasels that they were. The diplomatic processions had started. First as only minor efforts than larger and finally a deal was put on the table by the king: Marry my daughter, marry my heir then Britain and France can be united in a glorious dynasty and you can have France's loyalty, army and anything you desire.

Bella had been at the meeting. She had been beside her Lord as a sign that the threat of the military and the power of Britain was always there. She had to restrain herself from snorting at the King's proposition. She had legitimately thought her Lord would have brushed the idea off the table, but he had not.

"I think I can agree to those conditions, Your Highness," he had said simply, a cool smile forming over his thin lips.

To Bella she could only fall. Watch as everything fell away and assume that she had misheard. She had not. She thought her Lord would change his mind, but he had not. No, he had declared it was a good compromise. The Princess' hand would keep France's allegiance and the nation would always belong to him.

It had been only a few days since then. Tonight had been designed as a show of the unity of the two nations and to announce the impending nuptials. She had listened dutifully through all the speeches and announcement, but having been positioned at the table of the Dark Lord and his _fiancé _she had to listen to congratulations after congratulations. It had not been long before she had consumed more and more of the alcohol that surrounded her.

In fact, she wondered, as she stared down at the remnants of her glass and attempting to maintain a steady focus, it might be time for another. She considered if she could signal a waiter to deliver one to her out here. She did not know if she could survive going inside and having to listen to the pathetic giggling of that girl.

However, before she could even move, she felt a hand grasp to top of her shoulder. Her first (second, third, fourth and fifth) thought was that it was her Lord. He had probably come to scold her for her behaviour. She knew he did not appreciate when others behaved like fools when it could not impact him. Clearly, on a celebration of British and French unity, the head of his army behaving like a drunken fool was a detriment to him. He would scold her, but any attention from her Master was a blessing. It could only be a positive that her Lord had left the side of that bratto talk to her.

Though, she would be prepared. She would turn around (attempting to steady her slurring voice). She would insist the girl was a whore and probably spread her legs for the entirety of the French Court or was a simple, naive, brat who had no idea about anything and could never please him (she was not sure which option she would use, but she was sure she could tell one to her Master).

It was a splendid idea, yet, even with her alcohol soaked brain, she could not pretend for too long that the hand gripping her shoulder was not cool not thin, but warm and muscular.

Spinning on her heel, she had to touch her husband's chest to steady herself, before she pushed him away.

"Do not touch me! I thought I made that clear! Now piss off!" she screamed at him in a distant slur. If she was sober, she would have understood why Rodolphus had closed the door behind him.

Her husband's calm expression did not even flicker and, instead, he stepped towards her and, despite her protests, he gripped her flailing arms in his stern but painless grip.

"Come on, Bella. That is enough. I think it is time we go."

"No!" she bellowed back at him, attempting to wrench her arms from his grip but to no avail. A little while ago, leaving would have been tempting yet, since Rodolphus had suggested it, she did not want to follow. All she wanted now was another drink. After, she though she should go and talk to the Dark Lord. He might not have come to talk to her, but she was sure he would enjoy her presence rather than that slut. "I am staying here! I am not going anywhere!"

"Though really, what is the point of being here? The ball is all but over and all that is left is unpleasantness that neither us would enjoy," he murmured soothly in complete opposite to the shrieks of his wife. "Wouldn't it be better to go home? You can avoid all the people I know you hate so much."

She had stopped struggling. Actually Rodolphus' words did make a lot of sense. She really did want to leave these fools behind, but there was one factor that would ensure she did not leave, yet.

"But that Dark Lord!" she urged in a substantially calmer tone which seemed more like a whine. "I cannot go now! The Dark Lord is still here so I should stay. Yes, I would not go before him. It is best to stay."

"He has gone Bella. He left only a few minutes ago."

"Really? He did not seem ready to leave before."

"I can assure you he left. I saw with my own eyes."

"Oh," she said rather bluntly biting her lip a little, still tasting wine. If she had been sober, she would have realised that it was unlikely her Lord would have left, but at the moment, it seemed logical to her.

Loosening her arms from his grip, Rodolphus instead moved to hold her hand and lightly tug her to the stairs that led down onto the grass. Wordlessly she followed, but halted for a moment her eyes suddenly spouting fire again.

"He did not go with _her, _did he?" she spat her words making it clear her disgust with the prospect.

If Rodolphus felt aversion with her wife's sentiments towards another man, he did not show it, likely as he had experienced it for nearly twenty years. "No, he did not. He left by himself."

Satisfied Bella did not say anything. She merely walked silently beside her husband until they returned to the guest room inside the palace. After being undressed by her husband, she fell straight to sleep.

That unpleasant day was over.

It just would not be the last.


	2. Pleasure and Pain

Bella was thankful Rodolphus had only stayed at the palace for a few days. He had only been there as her partner for the gala, so after, he had returned to England while she had to stay behind for the rest of her duties. It had not been pleasant.

Now, there were only a few days left until she could return and leave this wretched country behind her. If she was objective, she would recognise the palace was extravagant and one of the great architectural designs in the Wizarding World with staff who were almost always cordial and eager to assist their distinguished British guests. Even if she was not in a fiery mood, she doubted she would have recognised these positives.

Ever since the ball (and after she had recovered from the killer hangover), she had a keen memory of the incident and a determination to avoid that stupid slut, though it was not always possible and, whenever they did run into each other, Bella avoided speaking at all costs.

It was also one of the rare occasions Bella did not want to see her Lord. Unlike the previous night, while her anger had not satiated, her motivation to confront or even mention the situation to her Master had wisely disappeared. Just like when she had first found out about her Lord's plans, she was wisely _attempting_ to keep her mouth shut.

Closing her eyes, Bella stretched her arms out on either side, savouring the space she had to herself. It was nearly eleven and, even though she did not want to sleep, there was nothing to do and she was concluding she might as well attempt it.

Well, she thought that way, until there was a firm knock on the door.

Snarling a little she did not even need bother looking up. "I am fine," she called carelessly, her frustration apparent in her tone. Ever since she had been here, the staff insisted on pestering her. She was used to England where elves stayed out of her hair unless she requested assistance. "I do not want anything."

"Are you sure about that, Bella?" A cold voice sounded, cutting threw the silence of the room. She knew who it was. On instinct she sat bolt upright and wide eyed, focusing on her Lord who entered, softly closing and locking the door behind him. She moved to get out of bed, but her Master raised a pale hand. "Stay."

Awkwardly, she remained where she was, pushing herself up slightly on her elbows, following him with her eyes with her usual devotion, as well as uncertainty. If it would have been before, it would not have had a problem and she would have known why he was here, but now, she could not be sure. She could only hope. _Merlin, she wanted him._

"Master," she murmured breathlessly as he stood by her bed. She was only wearing a silk night dress that finished a little above her knee. It might not have been see through, though, considering the material, it clung to her and did little to hide the shape of her body. Not for a moment did she consider trying to hide herself. If her Lord wanted to see her body, he was welcome to. She just hoped it went beyond more than merely seeing.

"You did not answer my question," he stated curtly, though, from the twitch upwards of his lips, she did not think he was irritated with her. "Are you sure you do not want anything?"

Her eyes never left his nor did she flinch. They had played this game more than once. "You always know what I want."

His lips curled forward dangerously into what others could see as a smirk as he leaned over, placing both of his hands on the bed, though not touching her. "Do I?"

She was awfully tempted. Very, _very,_ tempted. It normally would not have been an issue. As a rule she would never beg for anything, though her Lord was an exception. Usually, she would have reached up or merely confessed how much she ached for him. Not this time. There was something else her mind was focused no matter how much she argued with herself. She wanted to keep silent, but she eventually cracked.

"You know I would want you, my Lord," she murmured almost meekly. For the first time she broke eye contact, trailing her eyes down to his chest, his hands, anywhere so she did not have to meet his scarlet eyes. "With recent circumstances I thought you did not want me."

She had expected an explosion, screams or curses. Her body had even tensed, but, instead, all she received was laughter.

"Silly girl," he scolded lightly. She restrained from mentioning that at 40 she was far from a girl, though, to be honest, she did not mind him calling her that. It made her feel young. "Why would I? No, dear Bella why would I give away something that can please me?"

Her only response was to blush slightly as only he could make her do.

He knelt beside her on the bed and immediately she reached for him. If he was in one mood he could slap her hands away or, in another, he could indulge her. When her hands met the collar of his robes and were allowed to tug him towards her, she assumed the later.

Their lips crushed together and swiftly she set about almost viscously undoing his robes. It had been a couple of weeks now and the past weeks frustrations had been building up. Seeing him, but being unable to act, had been driving her wild. Her anger only added fuel to the fire.

Once she had undone the first few buttons, she broke her lips away from his and settled on his neck. Her lips stayed there, her teeth grazing his skin, though she knew, from the slightly suppressed hiss from her Lord, he did enjoyed the sensation. In fact, if she was lucky, there might be a mark for that girl to find later.

She only broke away when she felt her Lord's hands slide under her night gown and clasped over her breasts. She moaned against him and he took the opportunity to flip her onto her onto her back, but not before he had stripped her of her clothing.

She could only grin. She had long since become accustomed to lying naked before her Lord and now it did not embarrass her in the slightest. She only stretched out her arms towards him and eyed him with desire. For his part, her Master took his time slowly undoing the buttons she had missed.

"Master," she murmured all but begging. She knew he was only teasing, but it did not mean she liked it. "Please."

"Look at you," he chortled to himself, carefully and painfully slowly dropping his robe on the floor. She knew he was just trying to get under her skin. If it was anyone else, she would not stand for it, but because it was her master... "Before you seemed apprehensive, but now you are begging for me."

"Before, I did not know why you were here, my Lord," she said, attempting to keep an emotionless voice, but she failed miserably as he then deposited his shirt over the side of the bed and started working on undoing his belt. "I had assumed you would now not require me."

"Well, since the dear princess seems determined to remain pure and innocent until her wedding nigh,t you need not worry about my lack of attentions." She could not tell if his tone indicated displeasure, though she was concentrating far more on him sliding his slacks down his legs. "Do not fret. I intend to keep using you until well after the wedding."

She was only half listening, but what she did pick up she liked. What she liked more was when he finally tossed off the final layer of his clothing and crushed his body against hers.

* * *

Bella supposed it would have been simpler if the wedding would have been closer, but no, like any preparation for an upscale event, it was months away. The engagement had been announced in November, but the actual ceremony was not until June.

It had created problems for Bella.

Not only did she have nearly six months to hopelessly wish the Dark Lord would change his mind, yet she also had to contend with the sheer media circus about the event. As the date crept closer, all she ever saw in the paper was the cursed wedding and reporters insisted on springing questions that she neither knew nor cared to know the answer to. Rita Skeeter in particular seemed insistent on flinging herself at her as often as possible as if she expected her to admit to plans to halt the wedding or some secret love she held for the Dark Lord. Bella knew the stupid half blood's behaviour was just because she still held the deep seeded jealously that had lasted ever since they shared a dormitory at Hogwarts.

As well, her Lord seemed even more cautious than ever about their affair. It had not halted, though he was especially careful. Added media attention meant they had more chance of being caught, thought, after nearly twenty years, she doubted it would happen. Besides, she was not sure if she would have minded. She would loved to have seen the look on the girl's face if she found out. The wedding might even be cancelled!

The only thing that stopped her was the thought of disappointing her Lord.

She could only be grateful she was not a part of the bridal party. If she actually had to tolerate any more of that girl's presence or attempt to act like the whole thing was not bugging her, she might go mad or, more likely snap, and curse someone. Besides, if she had to hand the Dark Lord the ring at the altar, she supposed she might 'accidently' lose it.

As it was, the position of best man went to Lucius. According to her Lord, it was meant to act as a reward. In fact, he was very insistent that were she a man, that honour would have went to her. She merely smiled and thanked him not mentioning she would have loathed the position. It was bad enough to sit in the front row!

It was unsurprising to her that it was an extravagant affair. There were various foreign dignitaries and high profile ministry officials including all of the old Death Eaters. They were positioned according to their rank, so, of course, she sat right at the front, only a short distance from where her Master stood at the podium. It was a good distraction to attempt to make eye contact with him. She was rather smug whenever she succeeded.

However, that smugness soon disappeared when the ceremony began. For nearly an hour, she had to restrain herself from glaring at the back of the stupid brat's head, attempting to keep her expression neutral as she felt her heart shatter even more. She knew it meant nothing. He had told her time and time again, but, despite that, she wanted nothing more than to be in her place. She even briefly considered pushing her away and standing there instead, though, she remained seated.

At one point, she felt Rodolphus touch her shoulder in what she assumed was an offer of support, but she swiftly slapped the hand away. She did not need nor want it. The only thing she wanted she could not have.

Despite it, her faced remained mostly impassive. She even managed to not cry out as her Lord's lips brushed against the woman who was now his wife and to clap numbly along with the rest.

She had no idea how she had done it.


	3. Frustrations

Chapter 3 where we finally have Voldemort's pov. I really love writing him, though I have no idea why. We finally have a bit more of an explanation as to why he decided to marry. Nothing sentimental here. Only what he believes is logical.

* * *

The fact everything had gone according the plan was the only reason the Dark Lord was not irritated with everyone. It was all for the plan. It was a perfect and logical and, for this reason, he had not raised any words of objection, even though he suspected a number of his older Death Eaters had no idea why he had decided to run this course of action. They thought it was out of character.

They were partially right. He had never desired any companions. Sexually, if he wanted satisfaction, he chose a lover, took her to bed and then forgot about her. If he had a long term partner, it was only ever about the sex and only ever because they managed to please him in the long term. Currently, only Bella had ever fit that definition.

However, to actually marry someone, was a ridiculous concept. He would have had no desire to bond with someone for life merely so he could have a companionship or to have a family. Of course, he had never decided that. No, the only person he needed was himself. If he required others, he would summon them, order them to do what he desired, then send them away. No need for any companionship whatsoever.

So then why had he married? Simple, it was advantageous to do so. Not about companionship or, dare he even think it, love. No, never that.

For years, he had been attempting to secure France's allegiance: The nation was the first step into Europe and close enough to be a possible threat. They would need to be eliminated, either by forcing an alliance or conquering them. He would be happy to use force, but he was aware of the image that would create as well as the losses they would sustain. An alliance was preferable, thought that had never seemed possible, until the King's office.

It was true. His first instinct had been to turn it down straight away. He was happy to sacrifice others as a pawn or a tool, though he would never subject himself to being the tool. However, once that spike of fury had simmered, the possibilities developed. If he took the princess for himself, the King would always have to follow his lead. He could never risk harm coming to his daughter. Moreover, once the king died, the princess, and thus himself, would have complete control over the French throne.

It was strangely perfect.

Besides, it need not be an issue. He only needed to create the image in public and behave as normal in solitude. As well, unlike him, she would not live forever and, if she became too irksome, he could simply kill her, after making sure it would not seem deliberate, of course.

However, this did not mean in practice it was simple.

The actual ceremony was tolerable, though he loathed the vows (even after he had edited them), but afterwards, was where it became irksome. In the gap between the ceremony and reception, his new wife insisted on sitting, staring and following him around. He could tolerate that. What he could not was the look of expectation in her eyes as if she expected him to say something to her.

Of course, it had only fuelled his frustration and he had swiftly locked himself away in a room by himself until the reception. That was more tolerable. It was easier to simple carry through with the usual political notions and be seen to graciously accepting congratulations. He had even been rather amused and pleased when Antonin and a few other Death Eaters had quite honestly inquired whether his title would be Your Highness and Prince not Lord now. He had only gifted them a slight no and a smirk.

Now, he was sitting through less pleasant conversations. The King, his new _father-in-law, _had insisted on talking his ear off about one topic or another. He was only idly listening. However, being an obsessive and skilful multi tasker, it was not problem to seem like he was listening while making plans and scanning the room. It was slightly more difficult when the conversation was in French, though considering his intelligence, he could manage. It was all useless and dull. The only thing interesting was if he pointed out what happened to the last man who could be called his father.

He spotted Bella not too far away with Rodolphus and her sister. She seemed to be concentrating intently on her sister, so he supposed she was likely resisting the urge to look over as she had done several times in the last hour. He could not help but make sure he gazed at her every now and again. Not because of affection, but merely because he thought it wise to check to make sure she did not do anything stupid. He did not want to cause a scene or to raise any possibility that he had anything more than a strictly professional relationship with his Death Eater.

She did not look over and he was forced to turn his gaze back to the King. He did not notice that his new wife had followed his gaze, her eyebrows narrowing a little in uncertainty.

* * *

With a suppressed gasp, Bella sat bold upright, breathing heavily as if she had a nightmare. Pain erupted from her left forearm and, automatically, she shrugged it off and examined the mark that now burned black.

The Dark Mark stared back at her in all its glory. She had not expected it to burn, certainly not tonight. However, she would not stop to linger and think. Her Lord had summoned her so she would go. Nothing else needed to be discussed or pondered.

Sliding out of bed and careful to not wake the sleeping Rodolphus least she have to be subject to his questions or looks, she kicked the dress she had worn to the wedding and discarded before going to the wardrobe to find a pair of robes. Her eyes lingered over her old Death Eater gear, before pulling out a set of simple black robes and swiftly changed into them.

She did not linger after that. Walking swiftly and practically running, she did not stop until she had apparated out of Lestrange Manor and into the grounds of her Lord's house and knocked on the door. By the end, she was puffing slightly and a little pink in the face, though she was not at all worried, especially when she was led into the sitting room.

Her Lord was already there. He was silent. Resting his elbows on the unlit grate and staring down while his hands clenched and unclenched. It was a clear sign that he was irritated. She hoped it had nothing to do with her. She did not think she had done anything to disappoint him. By her reckoning she thought she had behaved, even at the wedding.

"My Lord," she said softly by way of greeting. She bowed and kept her head lowered, only raising her eyes to him. "You summoned me."

He did not wait to acknowledge her, but turned around straight away.

"Bella," he stated curtly. Again she detected the strain and obvious irritation in his voice and once again she was left to wonder what she had done wrong.

He was silent. It stretched on, but she was not sure she liked it. To her it felt like there was tension and she had no idea what she had done wrong.

Finally, when she could not take it any longer she spoke, "I- I am sorry Master. I apologise for any fault I have caused. I know not what it is but I regret anything that has irked you."

He continued his silence. His bloodied eyes scanned her and she squirmed under her gaze. She was waiting. She was not sure what for, but it would be something. The longer the silence went on she assumed it would be bad. By the end, she was starting to panic until his lips twitched upwards. She thought it might have been a smirk.

"I did not summon you here because you have done wrong Bella," he said simply though it meant everything to her. Her heart leaped and then returned to a steady movement.

"Then why?" she questioned though quickly she recovered and added, "Master, I am sorry. I should not question you."

Again he was silent for a few moments. Until his smirk only increased

"I thought that would be obvious. Very apparent why I would summon you and you alone in the middle of the night?"

Her eyes widened a little though the news was not unpleasant.

"Oh, I just assumed that since it was tonight..." she trailed off but was cut off by her Lord.

"Especially tonight," he said softly, his face completely emotionless. "Adele has little idea about what she should be doing. Silly girl had no chance of pleasing me. It could have been tolerable if I did not have to be..._gentle."_

His nose crinkled and the way he spoke made it quite clear how much the notion disgusted him.

"Of course, I could have forced her and behaved as I like, but it would be pointless and not advisable to irritate her when it is not needed. I am happy to sacrifice short term pleasure for long term gain."

Despite the fact she attempted to stop herself, she could not help but smile. She loved hearing him criticise her.

"So master," she murmured, stepping towards him so that there was now only a few inches between them, "you would then require me."

Tall herself, her Lord was taller. Even on her tippy toes she had problems trying to reach his ear.

"You need not worry, my Lord," she murmured boldly, entwining her finger in the collar of his robes. "_I _will please you."

She was just about to kiss him when her Lord's arm darted up from his side and gripped her shoulder almost painfully. She was pushed back a few steps and finally into the wall, her head clashing brutally into wall, though she did not complain, instead she was grinning.

His lips found hers in a brutal dominating kiss. She attempted to reach out and grasp his robes, but her hands were swiftly wrenched from him and instead pinned above her. So this was what he desired tonight. She did not complain. It was not in her nature to be submissive, even in the bedroom, though it was the Dark Lord and doing anything with her Lord filled her with joy. He was the only one who was worthy to dominate her.

It was not soft or kind. Nor was he particularly giving or generous, even if she found relief as she always did when she was with him. The fact that it was him always led to a certain amount of excitement that always gave her pleasure.

By the end and her Lord had stepped away, they were both breathing hard. She herself had to lean on the wall to support herself while her Lord adjusted and straightened his robes as if nothing had happened.

"You are excused," he said curly attempting to keep his voce at his usual level, but it was not completely successful.

She did not argue for a moment. Instead she merely buttoned up her robes and gathered her underwear from the floor. His eyes followed her the whole time as he left nodding slightly as she moved to the door.

"Goodbye, Master," she murmured in departure. He did not say anything though it did not matter.

She had assumed this night would bring only bad tidings, but she was wrong. Somehow it had brought only positives.

She seemed even more favoured than before.


	4. Lost in Translation

Onto chapter 4 where we finally see more of Adele. Just a glimpse and more will be revealed soon. I'm surprised that I actually enjoy writing her. We also see Barty Crouch for the first time. Another person I enjoy writing but do not get the chance to do so.

A final point, the mention of Voldemort killing one of his greatest enemies on Halloween refers to him killing the Potters, including Harry. I imagine he did not give Lily a chance to live and just killed them so no protection was ever created.

* * *

"I now understand why Rodolphus irks you the way he does," Her Lord murmured, oddly thoughtful. They were in her Lord's study at his home, purely for professional reasons, to her dismay. However, she would never complain about being with her Lord, despite the reasons. They had been planning changes to the army recruitment process and, while she had been jotting down some points on the parchment at the desk, her Lord had moved to gaze at the window. "They think they own you merely because of a title and ring. They think they have some claim when they deserve none."

She was not prepared for the conversation to drift to this area or away from business at all, but she was not disappointed, on the contrary, she loved it. Putting her quill back into the holder, she focused her attention on him completely.

"It does seem to be the case. They are tolerable when they are just another person but when they are a husband or wife... Rodolphus is one thing but," she paused considering how to phrase her response or, more appropriately, how to refer to her. She settled on the basic even though it was not her preferred reference. "Adele. To think she has any rights is truly foolish. No one has any right to think you owe them anything. She is the one who should be grateful for the honour."

It was a blessing to speak this way to him: To criticise her to him, especially when he practically encouraged her to do so.

"Of course, she will learn that in time," he stated coolly still looking out the window, but the expression was more of a glare.

Standing up, she walked around the desk to stand beside him. He was a magnet: She always wanted to be as close to him as possible.

Her eyes followed his gaze to find him focusing on that girl. She was silently flipping through a magazine on a lawn chair near the lake. It would have bothered her, if it was not clear that his gaze was full of irritation.

"She is not at all worthy. It is disgraceful that she treats you any other way than as her master, despite her other title," she replied with convicting, staring straight at the side of her Lord's turned face.

He rotated his head to face her, the briefest ghost of a smile slithering onto his face. Raising his hands, he lightly caressed her cheek.

"You would have though, wouldn't you?"

"Of course!" she replied immediately. "I could never doubt that. You _are _my Master."

"My dear Bella."He chuckled a little and moved closer to her, whispering in her ear. "This is why, if the circumstances were different and it were only a simple decision, you would have been my preferred choice of a wife. Of course, assuming I had to marry someone and I-"

She cut him off. She normally never would have dreamed to do so. She would have expected to be punished for that but she never could think of that now. As he had spoken, her face had flushed with pleasure and her eyes had watered. Before she could stop herself, she launched herself forward, clasped her hands around his face and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

She could have stood there forever: Her heart swelling and moving her lips against his. However, it was not to be. Slowly he broke his lips from his and plied her fingers from his face.

"Come now, Bella," he scolded, though he did not seem too upset. "I said this meeting was for business and not pleasure."

Turning from her, he tutted slightly and stepped back into his seat, his back now to her. "Come sit down again."

It was rare that she disobeyed him, but the temptation was there again. She approached and, before she could help herself, she bent down so she was behind him and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Master I am sorry but after that. I am not sure I am fully capable of carrying on a conversation about the army."

Her lips were on him again. This time running over his neck while her hands slid over and ran up and down his chest. It did not last long. His hand shot out, ceasing one of her wrists and pulling her down so she fell onto her hands and knees next to his chair.

"I said no," he snapped firmly any trace of good humour vanishing. "Now sit!"

With great reluctance and murmuring apologise under her breath she moved to sit back into the chair. She may have been scolded yet she was still smiling softly to herself.

* * *

Sometimes Bella feared she was turning into Narcissa, or worse, her mother. Certainly, she had no idea when she had started to enjoy events like this.

It was Halloween and, as was customary, her sister had seen fit to organise a Halloween Ball in celebration. Cissy had instated the custom of a Malfoy Ball since 1978. Others had tried to mimic or attempt to compete with the Malfoys, but all had failed.

Bella suspected her mother was ridiculously proud of her daughter. Narcissa, of course, certainly not her. Certainly, not the daughter who had actually made something of her life.

"Stupid woman," she muttered to herself, glaring at the older woman with tight blonde curls who standing beside her sister through her own mask. It was her sister's idea that they were all to be masked this year. Some had scoffed at the suggestion (including her), but almost all had complied with the request.

"Muttering like that I would suspect Bellatrix Lestrange is under there." A very familiar masculine voice spoke behind her and, automatically, she turned tilting her head up and smirking slightly. The fair haired Barty Crouch stood before her, he had grown since she had first met him, but she always had difficulty not seeing him as the pale freckled boy who had seemed like such a child when she had first met him. He leant against the table and, unlike her, he held his gold mask by the handle, pointing it to the floor.

"Are you sure about that?" she replied, eloquently raising an eyebrow, though she did not suppose he could see it under the black and jewelled mask she wore.

"Positive," he answered swiftly, bouncing up so he was now beside her

Leaning up, he reached up to grasp at her mask, but she slapped his hand away.

"Don't," she snapped. Barty retreated a little though he did not seem at all upset at being scolded.

"So, how have you been?" he questioned, his eyes focusing on her as he took a sip of what she assumed was firewhisky. "Have you talked to the Dark Lord this evening? Assuming, you know which one he is?"

She ignored the first question never being someone for small talk. She assumed Barty did not mind and, if he did, he was not the person she thought he was: Namely someone who she actually enjoyed talking to.

"Of course, I know who he is, even if is in a mask." Her voice hitched up a little in pitch and she sounded almost a little scandalised. "His height for one not even including his voice, the fact that I could see most of his face and-"

"Could be Rowle," Barty interrupted grinning slyly. "Thorfinn is his height. Maybe taller now I think about it..."

Rolling her eyes at the man she took a sip of wine. "You are a fool Barty." Shaking her head she tutted a little. "Why the question anyway? I assume it was not completely pointless."

"Come now, Bella. Have you ever known me to ask pointless questions?" His tone was almost innocent. It did not fool her for a moment, probably as she had trained him to be the exact opposite since he was nineteen.

"When you are drunk."

"Oh, well..." Trailing off slightly he continued after a moment's pause. "I'm not drunk now."

"Then you would have a point to your question."

"I just assumed you had to have for a while...or something because she won't stop looking at you, the Dark Lady." His eyes instantly flicked to the pair at the other side of the Ballroom near the double doors to outside.

She did not turn straightaway. First she had to stop the snarl that had formed on her lips at the title Barty used and then to conceal the slight smirk that followed. Who knew the stupid bint had some sense to be cautious of her?

Once she was mostly composed, her eyes took a small peak at where Barty was indicating. The Dark Lord stood to one side of a circle talking to Rodolphus, both in similar plain black masks that only really covered the area around their eyes. Wrenching her eyes from the figure of the Dark Lord, she turned to _her._ Her blonde hair was up in an elegant bun while she wore a sapphire blue mask with a series of elegant blue feathers on the side that reminded Bella of the peacocks her sister and brother in law doted on (sometimes she thought as much as Draco).

_She_ was slightly away from the Dark Lord, though, as if she sensed Bella's eyes on her she turned to face her. Bella did not turn away, but she glared back fiercely. She refused to stare away. Nor did the other woman. Her icy blue eyes stared back. It was not an obvious furious glare like Bella, but there was an arrogant angry gleam billowing below the surface.

"Bella," she heard Barty say to her side as he leaned over to grasp her shoulder.

"What?" she snapped. She was not sure if she was irritated at the other woman or Barty. It hardly mattered.

"See my point," he murmured cockily not at all bothered by her obvious frustration. She suspected he had adapted to her behaviour after twelve years. "So, have you talked to our Lord?"

"Only briefly," she conceded. It was only brief though she hoped to change that soon, preferably after the ball. He was in a rather good mood tonight. He normally was on Halloween since it was the anniversary of the death of one of the biggest thorns in his side.

"Then I wonder what her problem is," he commented thoughtfully, taking a sip of his drink. She was only partially listening. She was back to looking at the Dark Lord and Adele. The other woman seemed to have a similar idea. Her eyes flicked back to Bella and then to the Dark Lord, smirking slightly before she moved to stand beside him, close enough so she was almost rubbing against him.

Anger erupted inside her. Logically she should not feel that way. Clearly it was only standing close to him, but that smile and that look was enough to incense her. She took it as a challenge.

Without even asking, she grabbed Barty by the shoulder and tugged him in the direction of the Dark Lord. She released him after a few steps when she was confident he was following though she did not ease her pace until she was standing on the other side of the Dark Lord to Adele.

"My Lord," she said eloquently, bowing as low to him as she could in the tight black dress that she wore, all the while her eyes did not leave his pale face.

She had no idea if he had been in the middle of a conversation before she interrupted, but the anger in her made her not at all concerned. Barty was by her side and Rodolphus was still in the circle, though she did not even turn to him. Her eyes were entirely focused on the Dark Lord and she refused to look anywhere else.

"I hope you are having an enjoyable night, Master," she murmured silkily, taking a sip of slow sip of her drink and looking up at him through her lashes. "I will have to ensure my sister hosts better parties if you are not."

"Narcissa need not fear, Bella. Her hosting skills are entirely adequate. I am indeed having an enjoyable evening." His voice was soft and cold as always, but there was a trace of good spirits in his voice that made her almost as happy as the fact that his concentration was focused entirely on her.

"My sister is indeed skilful at such things. Unfortunately I did not inherit such skills, though..."Her lips curled and her tone became more flirtatious, despite the fact she had no idea if the others were listening to their conversation. "I do have _other_ skills."

"Indeed you do." Unlike her, the Dark Lord's tone remained as cool and as impassive as always, yet hearing the words made her cheerful all the same.

She paused pondering what to say but was interrupted by another voice. _"Could I have a word, Mrs Lestrange?"_ Soft and strangely melodic, Bella and the Dark Lord automatically turned to the other woman, though her Lord's gaze was neutral while hers was still full of fury. The words were spoken in French, and, since she had not been paying attention, she had not had time to understand what was said. Though, she did not care. She assumed she was talking to the Dark Lord and attempting to draw interest from her.

However, it seemed to not have worked when the Dark Lord turned back to Bella. She smiled back at him eager to continue their previous conversation. "Thank you, Master. I am glad you think so. I must say it is always quite an honour to be acknowledged by you."

"Of course," he replied but his tone was not quite curt and his eyebrows were narrowed. Her heart fell, even if she had no idea what had caused the change. "However, I believe Adele asked you something."

She halted confusion setting in. If it was someone else, she would have questioned him, but since it was him she did not even dare consider it. Her eyebrows only knitted in confusion and she was forced to turn to the French girl. She stared back; her previous calm composure had been replaced by a look of irritation. Unsure, she turned back to the Dark Lord. She had no idea what she had missed.

"She asked to talk to you," he finally said slightly irritated as he raised one elegant eyebrow at her.

"Oh," she murmured. She could not help but blush slightly as she looked to him, but she tried to push that down when she turned to the other woman. "Fine we can talk."

She tilted her head at her in confusion and Bella was forced to conclude her English was even worse than her French. Her mother had taught her and her sisters French at a young age, but, as she had grown older, she had used it less and less so her skill was minimal and far from fluent (unlike her sister).

Scrunching up the bits and pieces she remembered she replied, "_We can talk. Outside."_

Gesturing to the double door outside, she bowed low to the Dark Lord and strode to the doors. She only gazed behind her once to watch as Adele murmured something to the Dark Lord before she followed Bella outside.

She did not even wait until she was outside before she turned on her heel and glared at the other woman.

"_What do you want?" _she snapped in French not bothering to hide her impatience. She knew others had started to show the other woman some respect though she swore she would show her none.

If the French girl was taken aback by her directness or anger she did not show it. "_What are you doing with my husband?"_ Her voice was soft, but the previous meekness Bella had only ever heard from the other woman had disappeared.

Bella blinked staring at her strangely. Had she really heard what she thought she had? That woman would really not bother asking such a question, would she?

"_What did you say?" _

"_I said what are you doing with my husband?"_ she repeated, her tone icier than before. "_Is your French really so bad you cannot understand what I said?" _

"_This is said by the girl who cannot even speak English," _Bellatrix replied attempting to focus how flustered she was into anger. She could not believe that stupid bint had asked her that. It did not matter that she was justified, but in Bella's mind that was equal to questioning the Dark Lord which was always completely forbidden.

She had almost expected the other girl to blush or to cower away, yet she did the opposite. She stood straighter and stared her down which was harder when she was more than half a foot shorter than Bella.

"_Stop attempting to deflect and answer the question?" _she asked again.

Bella was very tempted just to turn on her heels and walk back inside and leave this woman to herself, but she was not a coward and she was too proud to back down from anyone least of all her.

"_I have known the Dark Lord since before you were born. I suggest you keep your questions to yourself. You will learn that you should never question the Dark Lord." _Bella knew it was not a direct answer, but she would be damned if she gave the stupid bint one. Glaring at her one last time, she started to walk back inside.

"_You did not even answer my question!" _Adele yelled back, almost losing her concentration for the first time. A part of her was tempted to tell her the truth: Reveal all the dirty details about what she and the Dark Lord did. However, despite it all, she restrained herself.

She continued walking and stood beside the Dark Lord again. Adele returned in time as well, but she refused to meet her eye for the rest of the night.


	5. Power and Powerless

Finally we get to see Adele's pov. I am really starting to become very fond of her. I might write a one shot for her after I finish this. As well, we see the return of Rodolphus. Poor Rodolphus. He just seems to be someone who I always feel sorry for. For good reason.

Also, if you were curious, it is now October 1992.

* * *

Content was hardly the correct word to describe Bellatrix at the moment. Eyes half closed, she was practically purring as the Dark Lord ran his long fingers through the strands of her silky black hair as she rested the side of her head on his bare chest. Objectively it was not too comfortable: Her Lord was rather thin and bony so he was not the best pillow. However, in reality, she was not fussed: She just enjoyed being so close to him.

It was almost like it was a show of affection.

Almost. If anything it was like how you would pet a well trained dog...or snake.

They had been resting here for about twenty minutes after previous activities and she was in almost complete bliss. She always was when she was with her Lord, especially since he was in a good mood. It generally meant he was more likely to display some amount of what she liked to think of as fondness but she was not sure if that was the right way to describe his behaviour. She thought it was too simple for someone as magnificent as him.

"What did Adele say to you the other day?" he asked breaking through the silence of the room. It was more curious than angry tone, thank Merlin.

Pushing herself over, she moved so her chin was resting on his chest and she was staring up at him. He lifted his hand momentarily as she moved, but resumed his stroking to her delight once she had adjusted herself.

"She asked what I was doing with you," she murmured staring up at him hopefully. She would not lie to him, but she was not sure about his reaction.

"Did she now?" his tone was oddly thoughtful and he did not focus on her like she would have like, instead he gazed up at the canopy of his bed. "And what was your response?"

"I only said I had known you since before she was born and that she should not question you." Her tone was a little uncertain as she bit her lip a little with nerves.

His eyes flicked from the ceiling to her. They were absent of emotion which was a common occurrence for her Lord. She could not ascertain any inkling about how he was feeling which she assumed was the point. "You should be more careful. You would not have been at all convincing."

"I- I am sorry, my Lord, that was not my attention I just had not expected the question," she replied swiftly, trying to stare into his eyes and show her feelings, but it did not cause anything to stir in her Master's eyes, as always. "I just had not expected such a question. I had not expected her to be so bold."

"Yes, you would be surprised by how bold Adele can be when pushed," he replied thoughtfully. His hands had stopped moving now and she barely resisted nudging them with her head to continue the movement she had been enjoying before. "However, we must be careful. It is best that this is kept quieter. It is best she does not continue this line of questioning or observations, certainly not now."

She only nodded, her chin knocking into his chest and hand as she did so. "Of course, My Lord."

"Speaking of which it is now your time to leave." His voice was cool as he nudged her and pushed himself up into a seated position. As always, she would have liked nothing more than to stay, but she would not challenge him: What her Lord said was law after all.

"Yes, Master," she murmured obediently, though it was clear she was not very enthusiastic about the prospect. Pushing the sheet off herself, she slid away from her lord and out of bed.

The Autumn breeze hit her nude body and she shivered despite herself as she gathered up her clothes. Every now and again, she looked back at him as she dressed to find him watching her. It only pleased her slightly.

Finally, once she was done, she bowed low.

"Good night, Master," she said softly as she moved towards the door. He did not reply.

* * *

Adel Moreau knew who she was and Merlin she had no intention of ever forgetting it, despite whatever situations she found herself in.

Tilting her head to the side, she examined her reflection in the mirror before she picked up a lock of her blonde hair and it pinned it behind her ear. She sat for another moment before she was satisfied and found her feet.

Her deep blue eyes flicked over the room. It was certainly large and luxurious in its own right, but it was much too dark and traditional for her taste. She preferred the modern design and lace coverings that had encompassed her room in her home in Paris.

However, that was not her home now. This was now her home. It was just difficult to comprehend. It was not what she had expected.

Opening up the wardrobe, she ran her fingers through the silk finally selecting a teal cloak. Despite the fact she had a large amount of clothes, it was still rather empty, or at least more than she would have thought. After all, only her clothes were there.

She did not sigh or do anything as melodramatic as that. She merely closed the doors gently and examined her reflection again.

She always knew she would marry. That was not a surprise or an issue. She might have chosen her own husband, but with her position an arrangement or suggested marriage was always a possibility. It was not a problem. She knew and was well aware it was her role to marry, produce the next French Monarch and eventually to rule herself when her father passed. It was her duty to do all of those things so she would. She had never complained and she would not. She thought she could grow to love her husband and they could be very happy together.

Mostly these ideas had never changed, even after she had discovered who her father had offered her to. Like everyone in Europe, let alone the world, she knew what had happened in Britain. She had never doubted purity of blood was important, though the rumours of violence in Britain quite frankly disturbed her. Even so, she knew Lord Voldemort was a great and powerful man.

Only such a man would be worthy of being her husband.

Before their marriages they only had minimal interaction. It was always chaperoned meetings and everything she had heard about him seemed true: He was intelligent, well mannered and, above all, powerful. More than that, there was this charm about him that drew her in. She would have preferred that her husband was not so much older than her (she suspected he was about sixty, but she was not sure exactly) though his face seemed almost ageless which eased her doubt in that respect.

For her own part, she preferred to reveal as little about herself as possible. She had only sat demurely, simpered whenever it was right and spoke softly and gently and only ever said what was appropriate. It might not have been her true personality, though it was the right front for the right situation. In the end, the Dark Lord was pleased, her father was pleased and she was even pleased.

She wished she could have said such feelings lasted. Even a few hours after she had said her vows, she had started to have some doubt. She had hoped the Dark Lord would show some interest in her, though he refused to even speak to her, at one point he even stalked away into his study. She did not expect he would love her, at least not straight away, but she thought he would respect her enough to talk to her and to actually get to know her.

She was wrong.

It only got worse after the reception. As was fitting, she had always stayed pure: No man had ever been worthy enough for her to lose her virginity. It was only appropriate that she wait for her husband.

He had fulfilled his role, but not in a way she could enjoy. There had been no kindness when he took her. He had not been overwhelming brutal, but there was certainly no gentleness or softness despite the fact he had been making love to his new wife. He had seemed to not care at all or to be much at interested in the whole thing.

Merlin, it had hurt! Not too much yet it had not been at all comfortable as she had heard it could be the first time. Did he not realise she still did that for him? Her frustration had been at its peak none more so when he had stayed beside her for only a few moments before he left the room.

The next evening she had been shown towards another bedroom which had been listed as hers.

Only hers.

Apparently she and her husband were to be sleeping in separate rooms. He visited her occasionally to extract his rights as a husband. That did not bother her. In fact, after the first time, she had even started to enjoy it a little, but it was not how it should be.

This was not how marriage should be.

It was not aided by the fact she knew he was not faithful. She would never consider an affair: She would not lower herself to another man nor would she disgrace herself and her family in such a way. Her husband had no such morals. She had no proof though she could only observe the way one of his top officials, Bellatrix Lestrange, looked at him to know something was happening. She could have brushed it off as the unrequited desires of an obsessed fanatic, if she did not see him return them. They were not often and certainly discrete that, even she had troubles seeing anything amiss, nor were they loving or caring, but certainly they were lustful and not at all appropriate.

In general, Adele was always someone who kept calm and composed. She would not break that composure and she would appear as perfect. If someone wronged her, she would not charge straight into action. She would softly and quietly find a way to get her vengeance. Sometimes it might be a while or sometimes she might get someone else to do the deed, but she always gained the vengeance she sought in the end.

Though, this had made her slip up. She knew Lestrange positively loathed her and for her part those feelings were returned. _Silly tart_. She tried ignoring her. She had tried ignoring the looks and glances, but it was all too much. She had finally broken her cool, snapped and confronted her.

She had quickly recovered, though it was not soon enough. She had faltered. She had acted foolishly. It almost irked her as much as Lestrange.

Afterwards, she had considered confronting her husband. She almost had until she realised it would be pointless. He would not care to change his behaviour. However, she would not rest on her wand. No, she would confront her task in a different way.

Stepping back from the mirror and concluding she was perfect, she strode elegantly down the stairs and into a sitting room on the bottom floor where she was told a man was waiting for her.

As soon as she entered the room, the man stood to attention and bowed his head slightly. For her part, Adele smiled charmingly and gestured with her hand for him to straighten up from his bow.

"_Good morning, Mr Lestrange. It is wonderful to finally have some time to meet you properly," _she greeted politely in her native tongue. Smoothing the skirt of her robe around her, she sat down in the armchair facing him. He followed after she had sat. "_I thank you for taking the time to meet with me."_

"_Not at all, Your Highness," _he replied in French as well. Thankfully the other man was fluent at her native tongue or this entire conversation would be more difficult than it already was. She was especially pleased to hear him use her proper title. _"It is quite an honour. However, I was not sure exactly why I was summoned here."_

She would not have preferred to move straight into the point of his visit. She would have preferred to serve coffee or tea, descend into small talk than reach her conclusion and reason for this meeting. It was difficult to bring up out of the blue. However, she supposed it would be for the best. She would prefer for her husband to not interrupt this conversation and it would be awkward anyway.

"_Well, Mr Lestrange, I preferred to divulge that at our meeting. It was something that I did not think was appropriate to send by owl," _she replied eloquently, pausing a little to gather her words before she spoke, "_you see, Mr Lestrange. I know this might appear as quite sudden, strange and indeed inappropriate, but I assure you it all has a purpose and I feel compelled to ask. Are you aware that your wife and my husband are having an affair?"_

He did not answer straight away. In fact, he seemed to freeze and his eyebrows appeared to shoot up into his head before he gathered himself, more quickly than she would have thought.

"_I apologise, Madam, but why would you develop such an opinion? I do not want to say you are wrong but I fear you may be inaccurate about your beliefs." _He eventually replied his voice perfectly calm and level.

"_For it is the truth_." Her voice was filled with conviction and not once did she back down, looking Lestrange straight in the eye.

"_Though have you even seen something that would make you believe such a thing?"_

"_Mr Lestrange, let me be plain which I admit can be against my nature, but I will behave as such for the moment. I may not have caught any acts of misdeeds, though I do not need to. I believe it is all perfectly obvious." _For the first time she broke her posture and leaned in lowering her voice a little. "_You are not a foolish man, Mr Lestrange, I know you know this is the truth. I suspect half of Europe knows it is the case. That they all know and they all find it amusing to laugh about how foolish we are behind our backs."_

He stayed silent and she suspected he was gathering up an answer. She did not give him the chance.

"_Mr Lestrange I urge you to acknowledge your wife and my husband's indiscretions. We both know they occur and this avoidance does not do anyone any good."_

He stared down at her for a while before he found his feet. She was forced to look up at him.

"_I apologise, Madam, but I believe this conversation is over." _His voice was ice cold and before she could even say anything he was walking towards the door. Immediately she stood and, before she could help herself, she reached forward and grasped onto his hand. Her eyes were bulging slightly, almost in a plea for mercy.

"_No! We let them get away way with this. Humiliating us. We are their wife and husband not each other!"_

His other hand closed around hers and, more gently than she would have thought, he plied her fingers from her arm, but he did not move away, instead he lowered his voice to the extent that she needed to lean in to hear him.

"_I am sorry, Madam. I only wish I could be of assistance. I know what you are going through. I have gone through it, but this is pointless. I do know what they are doing, but it cannot be helped. We are powerless to do anything so it is best that we stay silent."_ She wanted to interject. She wanted to scream at him despite how it was against her nature. _"I am sorry."_

The briefest ghost of a supporting and sad smile flicked on his features before he walked away.

She did not do anything for a few moments. For about ten minutes she stood frozen before she settled herself back into her chair.

All her life she had abilities and power. If she wanted something she could have it. If someone went wrong she could fix it, but now...

Now she could not do anything.


	6. Powerful Tools

I'm alive! So the original challenge might have been to finish it by the first week of December, but I still wanted to publish the rest even if the challenge is over. After more than a few disruptions and distractions, here is the next chapter. Featuring an increase in the ratings, some Voldemort musings and Adele determined to do something, I hope you enjoy. Hopefully next chapter will not have as long a wait, it just needs to be edited.

* * *

Adele was not a stupid or foolish woman. Intelligent and cunning, when she set her mind to a task, she could be unbeatable.

Sometimes.

This was one case where she felt like she had been thwarted.

Almost.

The knowledge that her husband was having an affair had haunted her at every moment. Before she had only suspected. Before she had not known for sure, but now there was no reason to doubt the truth: Lestrange had confirmed it. It might not have been his intention though, inadvertently, that was the impact of his words.

Even though she had known the truth, she wished she could act the same. She wished she could still pretend she could have a happy life and marriage.

She was not that person.

Instead, she could not remove those painful wonderings from her mind. When her husband arrived home late, she wondered if he was with_ her. _When her husband showed no interest in her for days she wondered if _she_ had already slept with him. When he locked his door and she was not allowed inside, she wondered if _she_ was with him. When he or _she _seemed happy, she could only think that it was because they had just slept with each other.

In the end, she could just not get it out of her brain. While she had headed Rodolphus Lestrange's advice and kept silent, she could not allow herself to do nothing. It was just a matter of what to do.

It was what she had concentrated on instead. At least productivity gave her some feeling of power even where there was none. She was not the type of woman who coped well with being powerless.

While Lestrange had confirmed the affair, in reality, she did not have any proof. She might have known it in her own mind, but that meant nothing.

If she wanted to achieve anything she would need a tool of her own.

Proof.

If she was in France, it would be a simple matter. She had a network of people who would do anything for her. In England it was more complicated. She was not influential other than what her husband could grant her. Of course any of the Dark Lord's assistants and workers would never side with her over him. As well, she could never have the ability to utilise her own connections.

She would need something else.

France had not embraced house elves like England had. Her home country preferred actual human labour for domestic work. It was more personal. Having that stripped from her had originally been difficult, but she had adapted to the elves. They did anything she asked for unless it was in contradiction to something the Dark Lord had ordered.

If he had given them specific orders.

Smirking proudly to herself, she handed a camera over to the small elf in front of her.

"_When your Master and Bellatrix Lestrange are together, take a photo of them," _she ordered in French, thankful the creature could understand her native tongue. The creature looked up at her confused and she was forced to specify, attempting not to blush or scream as she did so. "_When they are intimate? You do know what that means?"_

The elf looked at her and nodded with his floppy ears moving visibly. The Dark Lord had never told the elf he could not take pictures of him so her order did not contradict anything.

It was perfect.

* * *

"Still as punctual as ever. That only took," he said softly passing a glance over at the clock resting on the mantel piece, before he settled his blood shot eyes on the woman who had just entered, "ten minutes. So swift one would think you were waiting the entire day for the burn."

"Though I was, Master," answered Bella with great enthusiasm as she carefully shut the door behind her and approached her Lord. He was emotionless as she moved closer, though her stare that did not focus on anything but him and her eyes were filled with passion and joy. "I always await your call with the upmost attention. Nothing could be as important as responding to _anything _you desire."

The Dark Lord was a man who was always determined to gain control of others. He knew he was worthy of worship and should always be superior. Many Death Eaters and followers had recognised that, but Bella's level of devotion had gone up and above that.

Nothing pleased him more.

Resting his quill back in the holder on his desk, he rose to his full height and strode towards her. Bella did not move. She only looked up at him her eyes filled with desire. _It was so easy to pull her strings ._It was just so convenient that the way to control her best was also the way that brought him pleasure.

Standing above her from his imposing height, he ran a finger down her cheek as he often had done. She leant in savouring the sensation. It always amused him to see how such a small gesture had such an impact on his lieutenant. She thought it meant he cared for her. No, he just enjoyed watching how he had so much power over a woman who could never be controlled by anyone else.

"So loyal," he whispered softly, bending down so his lips were close to her ear. "So dedicated."

"Only for you, Master," she practically purred, eyes bright.

"I know," he replied briefly before he cut off any reply. Seizing her chin in a vice like grip, he brought his lips to hers in a brutal dominating kiss. He would have it no other way. Gentle kisses were pointless in his mind. They certainly brought him joy. Of course, they could be used for manipulation, though Bella was entwined in his web to such an extent he did not need to bother enhancing her loyalty.

Like a snitch that had been released from its lock, Bella's hands clutched at his robes attempting to draw him closer. He had no complaints. He only fuelled the contact by sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

There was something about Bella that always seemed so much more appealing than any other woman he could have chosen. She was older now and certainly he had his choice of younger flesh which he divulged himself in, including his wife, but Bella had this ability to please him like no one else could. Perhaps it was because she shared his sadistic side while somehow presenting masochistic desires for any pain he would cause her. It certainly combined two factors that pleased him.

He was the one to break his lips away first. He did not move his body from where it was, only his lips so he could talk. He was about to tell her to move upstairs, though he was halted when Bella's lips latched themselves onto his neck while, her hand that had been pawing at his robes, moves south to stroke his crutch through his robes.

Normally he was one to remain composed, but darn this woman could melt his coldness when she tried. The hiss of pleasure was not at all suppressed.

No matter what he wanted control. No matter the situation: Sexually or otherwise. He knew Bella was similar, but she submitted to him completely. It only heightened the arousal he felt to see such a proud and powerful woman completely his.

However, traces of her usual boldness appeared as they had tonight. Often he would punish her for her behaviour. Striking her across the face was often his first port of call, but it was not unusual to make her suffer under the Cruciatus Curse for her actions. Admittedly, its effectiveness was sometimes limited by her masochistic streak.

Though, equally, sometimes he allowed her to get away with her behaviour. Like now, as she slipped her hand into his now open trousers. She was just too good with her hands and he too focused in the pleasure he desired to scold her.

To a point.

While she continued to stroke him, she attempted to push him backwards into the lounge chair. Now, there was allowing her to please him by her own initiative and there was attempting to take control. The line between them might be blurred, but, once he sensed it had been crossed, he acted.

Immediately he struck, slamming the back of his hand into her cheek. She staggered back, barely managing to stay upright. It did not stop her. The shock was only for a moment before she attempted to close the distance.

He was prepared.

He did not allow her to and instead crashed his fist into her nose.

Others would be daunted but no _dear_ Bella just seemed even more excited. It was painfully obvious by the hungry gleam in her eyes, a curious mimic of his own expression. He did not allow her to recover this time. He closed the distance himself. He did not kiss her. He merely seized her wrists and slammed her against the wall. He did not flinch even when her head made a dull thud sound as it collected probably painfully with the plaster.

He pressed himself up against her causing her to whimper softly.

"Tut, tut, Bella," he said returning to his usual cold tone despite the evidence of his arousal digging into her and the fact that his lips was only an inch or two away from her own. "You should learn to behave."

Bella did not seem at all bothered, in fact her eyes only seemed to glow. "I only want to please you, Master," she murmured her voice husky.

"You please me by your obedience. Not your disobedience."

"I only aim to please, Master," she repeated. Her wrists attempted to fight his grip though he doubted those actions were motivated by any desire to escape. "You are always my _Master. _In every way."

The way she said those words sent a surge through his body that was his final breaking point. Adjusting the grip on her writs, it allowed one of his hands to rip her clothing from her, in the process likely tearing the fabric. He could not care less at the moment. His only concern was what lay underneath her robes.

Unusual distracted, he did not notice the small creature with bat like ears in the corner with a camera.


	7. Fire and Ice

Despite the fact that Bellatrix considered herself to be extremely skilful and powerful witch, there were still some things her sister could accomplish that she never could. Often her sister genuinely surprised her with her skills, like when she somehow managed to convince her to attend afternoon tea with the ladies.

She was even on time, almost.

Unlike what she supposed the other would wear, she had avoided all colours and wore a black dress that was more clingy than frilly with her black hair hanging wild down her back. What did she care what a bunch of prissy bitches thought of her?

With a scowl imprinted over her aristocratic features, she pushed open the sitting room door. The sight of bright and lacy dresses caught her eye, heightening her irritation. The only thing worse was the guests. First was her _lovely _mother. Even with her now completely grey hair and disapproving look in her ice blue eyes as she saw her eldest daughter, there was still no doubt she had been attractive girl in her youth.

However, Bella's eyes fixed on her mother for a moment before she flicked to the woman she despised. Dressed in a frilly lilac dress and her hair impeccably styled, she stared at Bella coolly. Bella could not be so expressionless. Her eyes spat fire and she was half way back to the door before a hand gripped her arm gently.

"Bella, it is wonderful to see you," Narcissa greeted softly, leaning up to give a chaste kiss to her sister's cheek. The grip on her did not loosen. "I am glad you could make it."

Somehow her glare softened a little as she focused on her sister.

She tugged her arm forcefully, freeing her from her sister's clutches. "I do not plan to stay," she snapped her voice full of aggression. She did not bother hiding her feelings from the others.

"Oh no, you must stay," her sister practically pleaded. She was quicker than she thought, as Narcissa reached for her arm again and started to lead her to the couch. "Please."

Her expression was still harsh as she sat on the lounge beside her sister. "Fine," she snapped back as she leaned to whisper in hers ear. "Just know I am not happy _she _is here."

"I know," Narcissa murmured quietly, her expression flawless. Raising her voice, she smiled sweetly at the other woman. "Would anyone else like another cup of tea? Bella? Something to eat?"

"No," she refused with a wave of her hand. At this seat, she was directly opposite the stupid brat. She refused to look at her and it surprised even herself as she turned to her mother who was sitting in an armchair to her right. "Mother," she greeted cordially, no expression visible as she inclined her head.

As the others started to talk around her, her mother focused on her eldest daughter, her blue flicking up and down her figure, her lips pursing slightly. Normally her mother was at pains to remain composed and the fact that she showed her expression Bella knew indicated her disapproval. Too bad that did not bother Bella in the least. Stupid woman.

She almost expected her mother to not answer. After all, she never could find anything to say to her that was an appropriate criticism to air in public. Bella was wrong. She could always be subtle.

"How is my eldest daughter? How is..." She paused, crinkling her nose in disgust. "Work."

She knew her mother did not approve of her choices. In her mother's mind, it should only ever be her role to be a doting wife and mother. She had never considered motherhood and she did not hide her lack of skills as a wife. The only thing worse was when she actually worked! It was not her place, but Bella could not care less about her foolish mother.

"Wonderful," she murmured silkily, pondering just how she could irritate her mother the most. "Busy. I could not bear anything else. Imagine sitting at home with nothing to do at all? Of course, I know you will not understand, mother."

She restrained herself from mentioning the rest of the woman, including Narcissa, would not understand either.

Her mother's eyebrows knitted together though she was saved from replying when Narcissa attempted to pull her into conversation about Draco. It was not long before the other woman eagerly joined into the conversation, happy to emphases the positives of their own children. Bella was pushed into the background. She did not mind. She was almost considering drifting off to sleep. However, every time she thought she had a chance, her sister would attempt to drag her into conversation.

She was very aware that Adele kept looking at her. Bella was undaunted and, whenever she caught her stare, she glared back in fury. It was not until an hour that Adele finally spoke to her.

"_A word if you please, Madam Lestrange," _she said softly, her voice sugary sweet. This time Bella was a little more focused and understood what she said, even if it was in French. Her eyes narrowed, though, never one to back away from a challenge, she stood confidently. She assumed others in the room might have been looking at her, but she did not care. Her eyes were only staring down at the other girl.

"_Fine," _she snapped briskly, avoiding her sister's hand and striding towards the door she had entered. She was not at all worried if she was followed or not.

In a strange act of déjà vu, she turned to face the other girl.

"_What do you want?" _

Not only did the French girl not answer straight away, but her lips twitched as if she was about to smile. It took all of her self control not to curse her. She would not allow herself to be made fun of, but wisely she resisted.

"_There is just something you should know," _she murmured calmly, her hands resting neatly in front of her, the exact opposite to the display of Bella's fingers that kept flicking near her wand pocket. "_Something you should see."_

She was not curious. She did not believe the girl would ever have anything that would interest her, yet she refused to have her time wasted and just wanted this entire interaction to be over and done with. She loathed the girl on principle and the only thing worse was when she actually had to interact with her. It was easier when she could pretend she did not exist.

"_Then stop fooling around and show it to me,"_ she snapped, clearly impatient.

She almost expected the other girl to continue stalling, though she acted as requested. Bringing a hand to her pocket (resulting in Bella almost drawing her own wand), she removed a piece of paper. Bellatrix glared at it and with her focus it almost seemed like the back of a photo.

"_Here," _she murmured softly. This time the grin escaped her. Again, it was difficult to not attack, but instead she leaned forward and snatched the photo from her hand.

As soon as her eyes glimpsed the picture she froze, dark eyes wide. It was not the contents that shocked her. It was only bewilderment about how it had ever got on her photo.

It was her and her Lord. Most of her robes had been ripped, her lips were locked on his as he pinned her against the war and moved against her leaving no one under any illusions about what they were doing. She presumed it was from the other day, but she could not be sure.

However, as the shock wore away, another emotion appeared. Her fist tightened on the photo, almost scrunching it as she removed her wand at a lightning fast speed. She marched on the other girl stalking forward and thrusting her wand against her throat. The other girl barely had a chance to react.

"How fucking dare you? You stupid fucking cow!" she roared instinctually in English probably loud enough for the woman inside the other room to hear. She did not care. She took one breath before she managed to scrounge some thoughts enough to return to French. "_How did you get this? Answer me!"_

"_I- I have my ways," _she stuttered momentarily before she recovered slightly. Bella was amused to see the fear in her eyes and the quiver in her voice. Just as she should. _"I have other copies. It does not matter what happens to that one."_

"_How about I just kill you now?" _Bellatrix snarled still loudly her convictions making it perfectly clear she would live up to her word. "_Then I do not ever need to worry."_

"_It would be pointless, unless you want to anger _my _husband. The rest are already strategically in places so that it will ruin you." _Her voice was level, but she let out the smallest whimper as Bella dug her wand harsher into her windpipe.

"Bella!" A new voice called loudly interrupting the scene. Bella's eyes flicked back for only a moment to glimpse Narcissa before she turned back to her prey. "Merlin Bella what are you doing? Let her go."

"You do not understand Narcissa. If you knew what she had done you would understand my actions," she replied coolly in English to her sister, refusing to take her eyes from the girl even as Narcissa moved to stand beside her. "What this stupid slut has dared to do."

"What has she done Bella?" Narcissa murmured gently reaching forward and touching Bella on the shoulder. "Whatever it is you should not hurt her. It is up to the Dark Lord to decide. You would not want to anger him after all."

Somehow, underneath the red hot haze, Bella could see sense in her sister's words. Lowering her wand, she took a step away from Adele, though her furious glare did not flounder.

"_Did you hear that girl? I will inform the Dark Lord of your treacherous actions."_

"_I know," _she murmured her voice audibly more comfortable now she did not have a wand pointed at her face. Her hands massaged her throat as she talked. "_I plan to tell him. In fact, he might even know now."_

The continuation of the secrecy, only irked Bella further and it took Narcissa's hold on her arm to stop herself lashing out again.

Cautiously staring at Bella, Adele turned her head to Narcissa her voice noticeably friendlier. _"I am sorry, Narcissa, but I will have to say my goodbyes. I must return home."_

Before Narcissa could even reply she started walking to the door. Bellatrix almost drew her wand again and it took Narcissa gripping both her arms to restrain her.

"_COWARD!" _she hollered at her departing back. "_This is not over you stupid bitch!"_

She continued to swear after her even as the door closed. Yet, despite her fury, she allowed herself to be dragged into another room by her sister, but she refused to sit. Her sister gave up the attempt and reclined gracefully in arm chair, her face lined with worry as her sister paced back and forth in front of her.

"What happened?"she questioned, her voice soft and gentle. It was so unlike Bella's voice.

Bellatrix did not reply instead she just turned and thrust the photo into her sister's hands. She finally stopped her pacing to stand to observe her sister's reaction.

"Oh," she murmured quietly, her eyes wide. She only looked at it for the briefest of seconds before she handed it back to Bella, her face colouring slightly.

She snatched it back and put it in her pocket. She had no idea why she did not feel comfortable leaving it anywhere nor did she wan t to dispose of it. She had never actually confirmed to her sister or anybody that she was having relations with her Lord, though, despite that, she knew most suspected. She had never denied the question and from her sister's reaction she was not too surprised by the revelation, likely just the photo.

"So what happens now?" Her sister questioned after a few moments. Her voice calm though her cheeks were slightly flushed.

"I do not know," Bella murmured her voice noticeably quieter and calmer now. She now even stood still. "I must tell the Dark Lord."

"Of course." Patting the chair next to urge she urged her over. "But for sit for a few moments. Have a drink then go. Just so you are calm."

Resigning herself to the fact her sister was probably right, she moved to sit next to her and received the glass of wine.

She would only wait a few moments, then she would go.


	8. Risks

I will probably call this the final chapter, though there is one more that is more like an Epilogue.

Enjoy :)

* * *

Lord Voldemort never allowed others to drop by his home unannounced. He controlled his own solitude more tightly than anything else, yet, suddenly, that seemed to be stripped from him, because, standing in front of him, was a man he had certainly not invited: King Ludovic.

The greying monarch had arrived only an hour ago, with little fan fare. In fact, other than a few sparse advisors, he had been completely alone. The portly man had extended his usual greetings and said he had only come by to see his precious daughter.

Voldemort did not need to be a Master Legilimens to know that was a lie, the way the King kept diverting his eyes made that abundantly clear.

However, ever calculating, he had not revealed anything was amiss. He had merely escorted the man to a sitting room, presented him with a cup of tea and attempted to hide his irritation about the invasion of his privacy. For an hour, they had filled the silence with small talk, but his patience was wafer thin by the end.

It was only when the door opened to reveal Adele that he allowed his mood to be subdued, at least a little. She had disappeared a few hours ago to visit Narcissa Malfoy. He had expected she would be gone for several more, but he was feeling strangely grateful he had been wrong (a very rare feat indeed).

He did not move from his seat as father and daughter embraced in front of him. He sat coolly, his eyes drifting over both figures as he sipped his rather sweet tea (strangely, just as he liked it). They embraced quickly, though he noticed a few muttered words in French that were too soft for him to hear properly.

Slowly they separated and turned to face him. Having to look up to someone, he felt oddly uncomfortable, though his face remained impassive as his eyes focused on them both. There was something happening he was not privy to and that only caused his anger to fluctuate again.

"_Good afternoon, Adele, I had assumed you would be at the Malfoys for longer," _he greeted curtly in French. He had never allowed himself to be ignorant and language instruction had been one of the many things he had deemed worthy to learn.

"_I had intended to be,"_ she answered back. Her voice unusually hesitant. "_However, I had matters to take care of."_

"_What would they be?" _he questioned sounding bored rather than displaying the curiosity that he felt as he quirked an eyebrow. He watched as the King reached forward to touch and gently squeeze his daughter's shoulder. For the first time, Voldemort's eyes narrowed briefly before he restored his face to its usual icy facade.

After a pause, Adele opened her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted by the door banging open and someone barging in.

"Master! An elf said you were here and I-" Bellatrix said in a rush as she trailed off, face flushed and breathing rapidly. She was dressed in a tea party dress and he assumed they must have come from the same party. He was feeling like he was the least informed in the room and the feeling did not assist the temper that was already threatening to burst.

Seizing the opportunity to stand without it seeming to be threatening, he gestured to the door with concealed venom. "Later, Bella. Leave."

Knowing Bella, he was a little surprised when she did not move straight away. Her dark eyes flicked to Adele and the King in suspicion and unease. For their part, he saw that both stared back at her with a peculiar level of interest. Adele seemed strangely calm, even smug, but the King seemed to look at her with disgust. His mind stored away the information already pondering possibilities for the reaction.

However, after a moment, Bella recovered herself and bowed low, taking one step to the door, but she was halted by the King interrupting.

"_No,"_ he stated firmly, his eyes narrowing with almost suspicion as he glared at Bellatrix. "_She _should stay for this."

He had expected Bellatrix to ignore the request, though she proved him wrong again. She halted by the door and somehow he could see her cheeks turn pink. What was happening?

"_I trust you have a reason to contradict a request I make in my own house_," he said, allowing the coldness to enter his voice for the first time.

"_Of course." T_he King replied simply. The King turned to Adele, Voldemort watched as he smiled at her encouragingly. "_Show him."_

Meekly, displaying none of her typical superiority, Adele had removed something from her robes and handed it to him. Taking a step closer to her, he took it from her hand without a word and turned it over.

Staring down, he was forced to look at the moving photograph of himself and Bellatrix. She was half clothed as he pinned and pressed into her. It was evident what they were doing.

Inside, rage spewed up and bubbled within him. How dare anyone infringe on his privacy? It did not matter what he did with Bellatrix. He was the Dark Lord and had every right to conduct his own affairs in private. However, just as anger raged, so did uncertainty. How was it taken? As much as that questioned nagged at him, he could deal with it later.

For the briefest second, his eyes flicked over Bellatrix's furious expression. It was now obvious Adele had either told her or shown her a copy of the photograph at the Malfoys which was why she had rushed here. Evidently, he and Bella shared the same outrage.

However, his eyes lingered over his servant for only a moment before he turned his gaze back to the King.

"_I fail to see your point," _he hissed coolly and, with a flick of his wrist he banished the photograph into the fire behind him. "_I fail to see its relevance."_

The King had normally been placid fellow. Voldemort had expected him to back down, but instead he stepped forward and raised his voice.

"_You think this is acceptable? Carrying on with some tart when you are married," _he snapped his eyes fiery. Voldemort stared back coolly, but inside he continued to seethe. It had nothing to do with the insult aimed at Bella.

"_I do not see the issue or its relevance to you."_

"_We made a deal! My and my country's loyalty if you would marry my daughter and now you treat her this way."_ His eyes bulged as he wrapped his arm completely around Adele who lowered her eyes, but other than that she did not seem to share her father's anger. He wondered how long she had known.

"_I apologise," _Voldemort murmured easily, raising his arms it what might have been a sign of mockery. "_But I fail to see any clause in our agreement which meant I had to be faithful to your daughter."_

The King's eyebrows furrowed and he seemed to be considering stepping forward again. He appeared to think better of it and paused to take a long breath. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly calmer and colder.

"_Leave her." _

"_How dare you? Don't-" _Voldemort heard Bella snarl to his left in French to the King. Immediately, he raised his hand. She went silent, her eyes wide as she breathed heavily. He thought she must have been as angry as he felt. She was right. How dare he? He did not bow down to anyone. No one! No King or anyone else. The subject matter did not matter.

For the briefest moment, his hands flicked to his wand, though he managed to control himself and instead stretched himself to his full height, staring down at the man.

"_I am not accustomed to obeying the orders of others,"_ he said coolly, his eyes gleaming red momentarily. "_I do not make any exceptions to this rule."_

Focusing down at the other man, he could see him flinch, but he managed to reply, "_I took you for a reasonable man. A man with some kind of morals. Clearly none exist."_

Somehow the other man's speech amused him. It was full of delusions that meant nothing. What use were morals? However, he kept his face blank.

"_What I do in privacy is my own business. Not yours."_

The man's eyes widened, his lips opened slightly and he stared at him for the longest moment as if he was seeing him for the first time. Voldemort did not at all like the experience.

"_I see..." _he trailed off, but he solidified his tone. "_It is clear that I cannot align myself with such a man."_

For the first time, he allowed a smirk to curl onto his thin lips.

"_Really?" _The amusement was clear as he stepped closer not towards the King, but towards Adele. He rested his left hand on her shoulder possessively, his wedding band visible. "_Now, are you sure that is a good idea? After all, it might not be good for your daughter, my wife, if you were to choose to take such an action."_

Swiftly, he watched as the King removed his wand. Voldemort had already acted to point his own at Adele. He was prepared to merely use her as a shield, but he was slightly surprised when the King's wand soared from his hand. Turning his head slightly, his eyes gazed at Bella who had her wand drawn and directed at the King. She met his gaze and smiled lightly. He returned the gesture with a wand.

"_You best be careful," _he hissed slightly amused and rather calm. "_There is no need for anyone to get hurt."_

"_You dare threaten me and my daughter?" _The King snarled back, his now empty hand scrunched into a fist as he eyes flipped rapidly from Voldemort's face to the wand pushed into his daughter's pale neck.

"_Not threaten. Merely warn. After all, your daughter resides with me now and not you." _He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek in a mockering of a kiss. Adele flinched, as did the others in the room. "_Now, I think you have worn out your welcome, Your Highness. Run along back to France. I will be making sure you do not do anything silly."_

He did not obey straight away. "_Adele-" _he said gently, but Voldemort cut him off.

"_Now," _he snapped, forcing his wand harder into the hollow of her throat. "_If you are good I will send back your wand and your daughter will be unharmed."_

Finally, he did what was requested. Throwing one sorrowful look at his daughter, he moved slowly to the door. Voldemort tilted his body along with Adele so his eyes remained focused on the man until he finally shut the door behind him.

As soon as the door shut, Voldemort snatched his wife's wand from the pocket of her robes and threw her onto the floor. Bella, who had been waiting in the corner, leaped to his side and, before he could even say anything, she lashed out.

"Crucio!" She hollered in anger pointing her wand at Adele. She started thrashing and screaming in pain. He had not expected Bella to act as such, but he enjoyed watching his wife suffer. He caught Bella's eye. She seemed apprehensive, despite joy at the torture. It was only when he merely nodded at her that the full array of delight burst over her attractive features.

He allowed her to continue for a few more moments, before he rested his hand on her shoulder. She stopped immediately and her eyes moved to him. He only met her worshipful gaze for a moment before he turned to Adele.

"_This is what happens when anyone dares to defy me, no matter who they are_," he stated coolly oblivious to the pain his wife was in. "_Stay here. I will know if you have not_."

Without another word and still holding Bella's shoulder, he strode out of the door and locked it firmly behind them.

* * *

Bellatrix was shacking as the Dark Lord led her into his study. She was not sure if it was from anger or pleasure. Either way, her face was flushed and her breath heavy as they stood near the unlit hearth.

She could not believe it. It was bad enough that Adele had been sneaking around like a rat and had dared to photograph her and her Lord, but, on top of that, she had gotten her father involved like the child that she was. The only thing worse was the outrageous behaviour of the man who dared call himself a King. He deserved every part of pain and trouble he had brought against himself. She only wished she was allowed to Crucio him too. The girl had been so fun.

However, a part of her was filled with joy she could not explain. As soon as the King had said her Lord was to end his affair with her, she had thought it was all over. At least the part of her brain that was thinking clearly and not full of white hot rage. It was not because she had a low self esteem: She was well aware of her many assets, though she knew that the 'relationship' between her and her Lord was for very specific reasons and there was no need for anything to be sacrificed for it.

The fact he had proved her wrong only filled her with joy and made her feel like she was floating above a cloud, especially now the anger had vanished and her mind was full of those feelings. She would never dare to presume he loved her, but certainly there was more affection there than she could have predicted.

For his part, her Lord did not speak to her. He was silent as he strode towards the fireplace. With a wave of his hand, he lit the grate and stared down at it, tightly gripping the mantel piece so that his knuckles turned even whiter. She knew it was a sign of anger, but, despite that, she could not help but approach him, stopping only when she was by his side. The heat flooded over her and, to be honest, she found it too hot to be comfortable, though it was easy to ignore that when her Lord was by her side.

She stared up at him silently begging he would turn to her, least she lose control and break the silence he had imposed on himself. Somehow the words she spoke in her head seemed to have been answered. He looked up from the fireplace and focused on her. His eyes swept up and down her frame. He was silent, but it was enough for Bella to grant herself permission to speak. She wanted to say so much, though somehow it was hard for her to bring it all into words.

"I do not know what to say, Master," she murmured numbly and oddly soft for her usual loud and passionate tone.

For one brief moment she thought she might have angered him. He was silent and his face oddly expressionless before he spoke, "What is done is done, for our part anyway. Both Adele and the King will receive their punishments. However, it may take time, but rest assured it will happen. Unfortunately they are needed for now."

"But, Master!" She found herself pleasing her voice back to its usual pitch like it had never left. "After what they have done! They deserve-"

"I know what they deserve," her Lord snapped back like a well positioned whip. "But be reasonable, Bellatrix, they are suffering and they will continue to suffer. I will not do something drastic and to risk war."

"But you have," she cried out before she could stop herself. "You could have just agreed! She could have just..." She trailed off lowering her eyes.

"The risk was minimal!"

"But still there," she urged. "You chose that risk because you-you chose...me."

That was it. What she did not want to say because it made her feel even more foolish to suggest he would even think that way. Lowering her eyes, she stepped back and collapsed into the armchair.

Just saying that left her oddly drained. She knew she had implied something incorrect and wronged her Lord, but she was right and it somehow left her even more confused. After all, how could she say something that would displease her Lord but be right? It was too contradictory.

He reacted like she had expected.

Turning on his heel with his face torn with the anger he had been attempting to control for the past several hours, he strode towards her and gripped her neck pushing her into the armchair and leaning over her. Despite the pain shooting through her jaw, she did not mind. She only hated his anger when he was upset at her.

"Do not dare assume anything! This had nothing to do with you," he seethed, eyes flaring red. "I refuse to be dictated to by anyone. I would not be controlled and that was the issue. Do you really think I would risk war for you?"

"No," she murmured softly, leaning into him slightly. "I know you would not. I know my Lord. I know all of this. It is why I wondered why."

"I refuse to be dictated to. I would not risk war even for you," he snapped coldly and viciously but she noticed the grip on her jaw had lessened to a simple hold that had no further ill intentions.

"I know my Lord. I know." Despite what she said she could not help but making the disappointment obvious in his tone.

Leaning forward his lips brushed briefly against hers, before he withdrew.

"Even if you are my favourirte."


	9. Who could have known?

Now we have the final chapter. Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed this fic. I hope you all have enjoyed it and find the ending satisfying. I do not think there will be a sequel, but never say never. I think Adele may make a reappearance somewhere in the future, though I cannot say where.

So here we go: The ending :)

* * *

_August 1993_

_(Almost one year after the last scene)_

Like a person putting their finger near a deadly monster, with considerable uncertainty, Bella dangled her finger down into the cadge. It was latched onto straight away and she jumped slightly. She could easily have extracted herself from its clutches, instead she stared into the crib with curiosity as the barely one week old baby held her finger as tight as it could.

"You should get Narcissa to babysit," Bellatrix said casually from her position at the crib as she turned around to the Dark Lord who was standing in the corner. "From the way she babies Draco, I think she misses having an actual baby. Besides, he did not turn out _that _bad."

"Bella, I own the country. I have the choice of hundreds of nannies," he said in a rather matter of fact tone with a roll of his eyes. "I hardly need to settle for Narcissa."

"I suppose," she murmured turning back from her Lord to stare back at the baby who was looking at her as if transfixed. "He looks like you already. I can already see just from the shape of his face."

She smiled cheerily over her shoulder, but the Dark Lord did not seem too interested as he walked closer to stand beside her.

"I have already been told this countless times," he said as if he was rather bored by the prospect.

"It is a good thing," she urged, pulling her fingers from the baby to turn her gaze from son to father. "Any way he takes after you is a blessing and an honour."

She only received a curt nod from her Lord who stayed silent. Now he looked down to observe the baby, but, unlike Bella, he did not make any action to touch him.

Now that her Lord was talking Bella did not want it to stop and continued speaking, "At least she did something right."

That made her Lord smirk and chuckle lightly. "Indeed. She finally gave me the heir I wanted. Too bad she did not get the chance to see the boy."

Her Lord's smile increased but Bella openly let out a shriek of laughter.

"Oh yes, too bad indeed!" Calming down her tone a little, she looked at him cautiously. "Is there any chance it will be discovered Adele did not die in childbirth?"

"Not a chance at all. There is nothing to suggest otherwise."

"Wonderful." She grinned ruthlessly at him. "King dead by your work and now his daughter dead. Your son will rule one day but in the meantime you rule as regent. Who knew this would have ended so well?"

Her Lord's lips curled into even more of a smile.

"I did."


End file.
